Chomper
by shippershape
Summary: For a tumblr prompt about mistletoe. Kirsten is hungover and Cameron is very interested in her choice of nightclub. They stumble onto some mistletoe and it's not a big deal. Except, you know, that it kind of is.


Kirsten was hungover. She was exhausted, her head hurt, and her stomach jumped unpleasantly every time she moved too quickly. It was Camille's fault, as it usually was. Kirsten distinctly remembered the words _can't hold your liquor, ice queen?_ being used. So, really, who wouldn't have taken that as a challenge? They'd been roommates for long enough that Kirsten knew Camille got weird around the holidays, something about her family abandoning her. So when Christmas rolled around Kirsten put up with a lot more of the partying, and the drinking, and the men than she normally would. She couldn't understand loss the way Camille felt it. But they were friends, so she tried anyways.

The lights in the lab were particularly bright that morning, sending a wave of pain through her head. She clutched at it with a little groan, and a hand appeared on her shoulder.

"You okay, Cupcake?" It was Cameron, of course. Better than Maggie, she supposed.

"I'm fine." She shrugged off his hand. He should know better than that by now. She turned to glare at him, and he frowned.

"Why do you have glitter in your hair?" He asked, reaching to pick a piece of it out of her ponytail. She cringed.

"Oh. It's from the club. I didn't have time to wash it this morning."

Cameron inspected the shining black fleck before flicking it on to the ground.

"Club?" His eyebrows went up.

"It was Camille's idea." She muttered. Turning on her heel, she headed for the briefing room.

"I see. So what club did you go to that involved you getting black glitter in your hair?" He persisted, following her. She sighed.

"I don't know. We hit a few. I think it was Dungeon-something? Or, wait. Redroom?" She heard him come to an abrupt stop behind her, and against her better judgement, turned around to find out why. He had a strange expression on his face, one she couldn't recognize from her flashcards.

"Redroom? That's a BDSM club." He said, voice strained. She shrugged.

"Yeah. Masks, leather. The whole nine yards. Can we go? We're going to be late." She gestured toward where Maggie was waiting.

"Why would you go to a bondage club?" He asked, still not moving. He was staring at her, and it was beginning to make her feel like she had said something wrong.

"I don't know. Camille gets weird at the holidays. I don't question it." She took a few steps back toward him and tugged on his arm. "Come on, Dr. Goodkin. I don't want to get detention." He started moving again, eyes narrowed at her like he was deep in concentration. Just as they were walking through the door to the briefing room, a cheer erupted through the room. Kirsten stopped.

"What?" She asked, frowning at Camille as she wolf whistled. "What's going on?"

Cameron spoke from behind her.

"Uh, Stretch?"

She glanced over at him, and then up, where he was pointing. A plant clipping hung above them, small round leaves around a burst of white flowers. She looked back at him in confusion.

"I don't get it."

He blushed a little. She found that intriguing, but even more confusing.

"It's mistletoe, Kirsten." Camille said from where she sat next to Linus. For the first time, Kirsten noticed the smear of red lipstick on the communication technician's lower lip. It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Oh." She said, turning back to Cameron. His blush deepened.

"It's just a stupid plant, we don't have to-" But he was cut off when Kirsten stepped in, grabbing his face in her hands and pressing her lips soundly to his. He made a noise of surprise, then snaked an arm around Kirsten's waist, dragging her closer. It was just a kiss. She'd only done it because she was tired, and hungover, and knew Camille wouldn't let this go until she'd given in. But she could feel his heart beating against her chest, and for some reason it reminded her that this wasn't just anyone this was _Cameron_ , and for some reason that knowledge sent a shiver of heat down her spine. When his fingers curled against the small of her back his nails scraped lightly over the exposed band of skin where her shirt had ridden up, she bit down gently on his lower lip. She wasn't in control anymore. Kirsten broke away, breathing hard. Cameron stared at her for a second, eyes dark, then seeming to realize where his hands were, he dropped them. Somewhere in the room, Maggie cleared her throat. Camille whooped.

"Ahh." Kirsten clutched at her head instinctively. "Shh Camille." Her friend just grinned. Maggie stood up and made her way to the board. Kirsten found her seat, Cameron right next to her.

"Can we begin?" Maggie asked, peering exasperatedly at them. "Or do you two want to go find a closet somewhere?" Kirsten deadpanned. Cameron blushed again.

They didn't talk about it. But when Cameron proceeded to spend the rest of the meeting combing glitter out of her hair with his fingers, she didn't mind at all. And when her headache was gone by the time the meeting was over, Kirsten told herself it had nothing to do with him. It took weeks for Cameron to stop calling her Chomper. The rest of the lab didn't get it.


End file.
